Original Sin (2 page)

I’m not fluent in Italian. That’s near on about the extent of my Italian vocabulary. I bought a phrase book and have been teaching myself the basics since my arrival.

I did the same when I was in France and Switzerland. It helps me get around, helps me get jobs like this one. I’m becoming bilingual, with a severe lack of fluency in any language.

I’ll just be a collection of polite quotes in all languages soon enough. I don’t stay in any particular town for long. I just wander the country, living and working in different towns untilblo I reach the end, then I move to a different country. It’s what I’ve done since I left Nathan, just work in an endless stream of cafés and bars, moving across Europe, heading to nowhere in particular.

And it’s not that I want to forget about Nathan, or any of them for that matter, because I don’t, I just want to reach a functioning non-torture level. Which I thought I would have by now. But I haven’t. It’s all still as raw and painful as it was the day I left.

It’s like I have this deep gaping void in my chest and no way to fill it.

But this is just life for me now. I know this. And no, I’m not throwing myself a pity party, even though sometimes I might want to. I want to become positive and move on.

And I’m sure it will happen, real soon.

I’ve just got to keep trying, and I will at some point figure out a way to stop pining for a future that will never be mine.

But for right now, I’ll focus on keeping myself alive. I only have me to rely on. And for my own safety, as well as the worlds, I have to keep my identity hidden. I can’t drop the ball.

That’s why I don’t stop moving. Ever.

The night I left Nathan sleeping in that hotel room in Scotland, I managed to hitch a ride with a woman who was heading home from work late. She dropped me in the town centre.

I wandered around all night, thinking about Nathan, wondering if he’d woken yet and knew I was gone. Then when dawn broke I got the first train heading to London. I didn’t want to take the ferry over to France, Nathan would probably expect I would and that would be the first place he’d go looking, so I took the Eurostar.

I was nervous using the passport Craig procured for me, but there was no problem whatsoever, and the next thing I knew I was seated on the Eurostar heading to France, with absolutely no idea of what I would do when I got there.

When I arrived in Paris a few hours later, I checked into a cheap hotel near the station. Once I was safely in my room, I put my bag down, sat down on the edge of the bed, and cried. For what seemed like hours and hours.

When the tears ran out, I forced myself to think logically about my situation. The two things I knew I needed over everything else, was money and blood.

Just not necessarily in that order.

And I needed to move regularly, to not stay in the same place for too long, just like Nathan had said, but most importantly I needed to be aware of who and what was around me at all times. Risking discovery by another of my kind isn’t an option.

So the next morning I paid for a few more nights stay at the hotel and went looking for a job. Any job. After two days I got one working as a waitress in a coffee shop. I stayed for two weeks, earning enough money to move me I non to another town.

I moved through France for a couple of months, working in an endless streams of cafés and bars, places which paid cash in hand with no questions asked.

I got myself supplies to make hunting easier; plastic bottles and a draining tube. I hunted at night in forests, stocking up on enough blood to last me a week.

After two months I moved from France to Switzerland, and continued on doing the same. After two and a half months in Switzerland, I moved to Italy.

I’ve been here for about six weeks. I’ve stayed in a couple of places so far, but now I find myself in Sassano in Western Italy, working here in Piaz.

It pays okay and the owner Joe Fonzarelli is nice. I’ve had the urge to call him The Fonz a few times, but he looks nothing like Fonzie and more like one of those fat balding types I mentioned.

But Joe’s a nice guy, and the one bed apartment I’m currently renting belongs to him. Joe and his wife Carol own a few apartments which they rent out. I have it on a two month lease, which isn’t ideal but is the best I could get, plus it’s just down the road from the café.

I like it here. It’s quiet. And it’s a big enough place so that people don’t ask questions, but not big enough to pose any risk of bumping into anything unwanted. I get to keep myself to myself and that suits me just fine.

The coffee machine starts to beep at me, breaking my reverie.

I make handsome’s cappuccino, put it onto a tray, and carry it over to his table.

He looks up from the book he’s reading when I approach; Red Dragon by Thomas Harris, he’s certainly got good taste in books. He puts his bookmark in, a receipt.

Funny, I do that too. I always use the receipt from the store I bought the book from as my bookmark. Not that I read much nowadays, actually come to think of it I haven’t picked a book up since before the attack.

Putting his book down on the table he smiles at me, showing me a set of perfect white teeth. It’s a nice smile. Not perfect, like his face, his lip crooks up more to the right, creating a dimple in his cheek.

It’s not unusual for a customer to want to talk to me, especially if they’re English, but I ensure I keep to the basic pleasantries.

I have to be careful with every stranger I speak to because there could always be that possibility that one day, one of them may have seen my picture in the paper and recognise me as that girl who went missing all those ="0months ago when walking home from a night out with her best friend.

I don’t want to make conversation. I don’t have real conversations with people anymore. I just have polite interaction. But for some reason this guy seemingly wants to have a conversation with me. I know for certain he’s not supernatural. He’s human. I can always tell straight away, thankfully.

He casts a glance around the empty café. I see the smile in his eyes. He’s taking the mick. There’s only one other customer in the café at the moment and I’m fairly sure he fell asleep a while ago.

Releasing a little laugh I shake my head. “No, not really. But I should get back to pretending to work, just in case my boss turns up.”

Now that’s utter bollocks as I know for a fact Joe’s not coming in today. But Handsome here doesn’t know that. If Joe were coming in today then Celine, the other girl who works here, wouldn’t have disappeared out back for a smoke twenty minutes ago. Actually, scrap that, she still would have even if Joe was here, she’s a bit like that.

It took some getting used to, but I’m there now. I sometimes wonder who Sarah Tolliver was, or if she was even real at all. For job and rental purposes I use Carrie’s surname though, Ross. So currently, I’m Sarah Ross. I do that simply because, if for the slim chance Nathan is still looking for me, then he’ll be looking for Sarah Tolliver.

Ensuring she can’t be found by him.

Gingerly, I slip my hand into Zeff’s to shake.

The sensation slams into my hand and flies up my arm the instant I make contact with him. It’s like a magnetic, electrical charge. Lie gterally, like someone has used one those defibrillators on me, jolting me, the charge rippling through my whole body. I’m half expecting someone to shout, ‘Clear!’ before zapping me again.

I snatch my hand back from his.

I see the element of surprise in his eyes, but I don’t care, I’m instantly suspicious. My arm feels weird, numb, and my whole body is tingling.

Reaching out my senses I try to sense anything off about him. But there’s nothing. He’s just a regular human being.

Then my head starts to clear, and I start to think I might have overreacted a tad. Maybe it was just a static shock or something. But he doesn’t seem to have had any reaction. Apart from the look on his face at me snatching my hand away, that is.

Feeling a flush creeping up my neck, I force an awkward smile and clasp the tray to my chest, gripping my hand around it to quell the sensation and bring my arm back to life.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you, Sarah.” He picks his book up, “And thanks for the cappuccino.”

“Nice to meet you.” Turning, I head back behind the counter to dispose of the tray.

Celine comes back in soon after, reeking of cigarette smoke, so taking the chance to escape I leave her to keep cover of the café.

I head into the back to load the dishwasher with today’s dirty cups and set it going. By the time I’ve finished and come back out, that Zeff guy is gone.

The rest of my shift passes by uneventfully. I get my bag, say good-bye to Celine, leaving her to lock up, and head back to my apartment.

Celine is okay, when she’s not been brash. She’s from California and is backpacking around Europe with her friends. She thinks I’m doing the same, but solo. I also get the impression she thinks it’s quite tragic that I’m travelling alone. It is. Just not for the reasons she thinks.

Celine and her friends are doing what I am, moving around doing bar and waitressing jobs to give them money as they travel. Except mine is a little different. Well, a lot different.

As I walk toward my apartment, I notice the sky is coming in a little dark, earlier than normal. Crossing the street, I come up to the little complex of apartments where I live. Opening the gate, I walk across the courtyard, reaching the main door. I enter the security code in on the keypad and the door buzzes open.

There are only two floors; ground and first, I’m on the first so I take the stairs. Reaching my apartment, I unlock the door. Letting myself in, I turn the light on and cross through the open plan living room, dumping my rucksack on the kitchen counter.

I always have this rucksack with me, I don’t go anywhere without it. It contains my passport and all the money I possess. It also has the newspaper cutting picture of Carrie and me. The one from the newspaper Nathan gave to me that first day when I’d woke to find out she was gone and I’d been changed into this monster.

It’s the only photo I have of her. I ensure I always have those three things with me over everything else. I also carry around a tube for draining blood into bottles from the animals; and yes, it really is as gross as it sounds... and a silver blade for protection.

It was one of t"> he first things I acquired after I left Nathan. So far I haven’t needed to use it. I also carry around in my rucksack a spare set of clothes, for if I ever need to leave in a hurry, which in my case could be a big possibility. But thankfully, I haven’t had to so far.

But I know one day, if not soon, it will happen, and I want to be as prepared as possible. I travel light. It makes moving all the more easier.

Going over to the fridge I get a bottle of blood out. Looking at the contents I see I’m down to a couple of days worth, max. I need to go hunting.

I very quickly learnt how to hunt since I didn’t have Nathan taking care of me anymore. In the beginning I hated it, well I can’t say I particularly love it now, but I’m accustomed to it.

Finishing the blood I go in my bedroom, change out of my work clothes, and put on my hunting clothes. Black jeans, a black long-sleeved sweater, and the Converse trainers Nathan bought me. They’re looking old and battered but I can’t bear to part with them.

I leave my hair tied in the ponytail it’s been in all day. My hair is still brown, I decided to keep it this colour. It was just easier to carry on dyeing it than trying to get it back to my natural shade, and I quickly got used to it.

And with the slight tan I’ve got from constantly being in summer climes, the dark hair almost suits me. I didn’t keep cutting it short though; I hated not having long hair so I let it grow. It’s grown quite a bit, reaching to my shoulders now.

Getting myself ready to go hunting, I put the cleaned plastic bottles into my rucksack, ready for refilling. I double check I've included the tube I use to filter the blood out of the animals into the bottles. I also check my passport, money, picture, and clothes, are all there.